“Yo! Little Linson! Arbuckle! What are you guys up to?” Ace picks Brooke up in a hug. Then Aston gives her a hug.
Ace holds out a fist to me, and I reluctantly bump it. Not because I don’t love the guy. I do, but he’s trying to get under my skin with Brooke tonight. And also, I want to get up to the room. I’ve waited a long time to have this woman look at me the way she has tonight. I want to hold her, kiss her, and make love to the girl of my dreams.
“We’re just hanging out, driving around and stuff.” Brooke shrugs.
“Together? Just the two of you?” Aston asks.
Fucker.
“Uh-huh,” Brooke mumbles.
It’s time to take matters into my own hands. Brooke isn’t drunk, but tipsy enough that the truth serum is in full force, I suspect.
“We’ll see you guys later.” I bend down slightly and lift her over my shoulder, holding her dress down with my forearm so she doesn’t flash the whole lobby.
“Ahh, Silas!” She laughs as her head pops up, and she yells to the guys as we walk away, “Okay, I guess we’re going. Bye, guys! Make good bad decisions! I want to hear all about them tomorrow!”
“Say cheese, Little Linson,” Ace calls out.
I feel her laugh against my back, her body bouncing as one arm braces around my shoulder and the other shoots into the air for the picture.
“Cheese!” she shouts, and it’s so fucking adorable that it almost hurts.
We’re halfway through the lobby when Ace audibly gasps.
“Holy shit,” he yells after us. “You guys get married?”
I turn my head just enough to see him standing there, mouth hanging open, phone still raised in his hand. I frown, trying to figure out how the hell he put that together—until he flips the screen around.
Sure enough, there’s my bride on it. Draped over my shoulder. Beaming. And very clearly flashing the wedding band on her finger.
Well. Shit.
“What happens in Vegasenergy?”
“Later.” I shut him down.
Ace laughs under his breath. “You’re insane. I need details.”
“Just pretend we were never here.”
Ace lifts both hands. “Fine. I’ll save my spiral for daylight.”
“Smart choice.” I turn with Brooke still over my shoulder and a prayer that Ace will keep his mouth shut.
Once we’re near the check-in desk, I put her down and instinctively wrap an arm around her waist.
“Welcome to the Bellagio. Do you have a reservation?” the clerk asks.
“Arbuckle.” I pull out my wallet.
“Ah, yes, the Premiere King suite.” She taps away on her keyboard. “Do you have a card you want to use for incidentals, or is the one you used for the reservation okay?”
“That works. Use that card.” I pocket my wallet again since I won’t need it.
Brooke takes my hand in hers. “The Premiere King suite? Isn’t that expensive?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had some lucrative sponsorship deals. Plus, I’m smart with money.” I wink at her.
